


You've Met Your Match

by mega_seeds



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dominance, Forced, Humiliation, M/M, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Sexual Violence, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 21:37:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11216745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mega_seeds/pseuds/mega_seeds
Summary: After brutally beating Rick's ass, Doofus Jerry has his own special way of asserting his dominance once and for all. Picks up right where Issue #21 of the comics leaves off.





	You've Met Your Match

"I don't know how things are here, but I'm Jerry Smith, and I never lose. You won't beat me! You  _ can't _ beat me!" The younger man's eyes fixated on Rick with nothing but utter contempt. "You've met your match, old man."

This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Rick's whole body ached. It had been years since he had had his ass kicked this thoroughly, but all of that didn't matter. He could take a beating - he had enough pride to spare to file that away and move on with his life - but from  _ Jerry _ ?! In the entire multiverse, he couldn't imagine a single individual he'd like to lose to less, and yet here he was with the alternate version of his dopey son-in-law towering over him with a twisted grin contorting his features. Never had he seen an expression like that on Jerry's face before. He wouldn't admit it, but it was deeply unsettling. Not to mention the fist which was tightly gripping the collar of Rick's shirt, effectively keeping him from crumpling to the floor in an exhausted heap. Even as he hung there, shaking involuntarily, he could feel bruises blossom around his eye socket and along his jawline. But the old man never knew when to quit.

"Bite m-me." He spat back.

_ Crunch! _

Rick saw nothing but stars for a moment and then he was blinking, his eyes inches from the wooden floorboards. His head was spinning, and all he could taste was blood. Was it his lip that was bleeding? His tongue?

As he glanced up he saw Jerry once again towering above him, examining his knuckles with a fractionally raised eyebrow. He clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"Would you look at that? I have your blood on me, Sanchez."

Rick glowered up at him through narrowed eyes, the effect of his silence somewhat mitigated by the fact that he probably looked too beaten up to speak at this point. 

"It's disgusting."

Without warning, Jerry had grabbed a hold of the lapel of his lab coat and wrenched him upwards onto his knees. Gracing him only with the most disdainful of looks, the man wiped the traces of blood from his knuckles using the already scuffed white material. A self-satisfied smirk played around the corners of his mouth as he did so. Even though he hadn't encountered any comparable Ricks in his home dimension, he seemed to know exactly what this was doing to him. It was deeply humiliating, but it went further than that. It was shattering the very foundation of how the universe functioned in Rick’s mind. People like Jerry were all the same to him. Un-opinionated followers. Sheep. Annoying, insistent, perhaps even resilient sheep, but sheep nonetheless. People who could be pushed around, bent to his will. A reversal of these roles didn't fit into his understanding of the world. Not only did this floor him, but to his absolute horror, this alternate version of Jerry seemed to be getting off on this very fact.

With a strength the older man would not have believed lay in those weedy arms he hoisted him up and shoved him against the wall. Jerry now held a balled up fistful of his blue shirt. Their faces were inches apart. Rick wished he could stop shaking, but his body was paying the price for the beating he had received. Every breath that left his bruised and swollen mouth sounded laboured and was agony to his ribcage. Somewhere amidst all those merciless kicks to the stomach he must have sustained some serious bruising, if not worse. If only he could get to his garage… 

Jerry appeared to have other ideas. With his sneering features so close to his own, Rick could feel each huff of heated air from the other’s nostrils. When he spoke, he could smell his breath – biting and vaguely alcoholic, so very unlike what he was used to from his real son-in-law, who he had always assumed probably smelled of cheap gas station aftershave, fresh printer cartridges and a pinch of desperation.

“Say it.”

His voice was commanding, but not calm. Jerry was visibly buzzing with excitement and anticipation, but Rick wasn’t about to give him what he wanted.

“Say w-what, huh? You’re – you’re gonna have to be a – a – a bit clearer about what you want, buddy.” He said snidely, though he really wasn’t in a position to be pushing his luck.

Rick’s whole plan – if the rather hopeless, half-formed notion could even be called that – consisted in winding the man up until he inevitably dropped his guard. He hoped that even this utterly demented counterpart of Jerry’s wouldn’t go so far as to kill him on his own doorstep, at least not while he was still hoping to woo his daughter.

Jerry’s eyelid twitched in annoyance. “ _ Say it _ . Say that I beat you, old man.”

It was all Rick could do to grimace as more blood gathered in his mouth. Not even bothering to respond to the younger man’s gloating, he took aim and spat. The globule of blood and saliva splattered rather satisfactorily across Jerry’s cheek and the bridge of his nose. He blinked, swore, and let go of Rick’s shirt, causing the old man to slide weakly down with his back against the wall, but even as he was attempting to straighten up, Jerry’s foot made its way squarely into his stomach, knocking the air out of him. The scientist’s vision swam before his eyes as he wheezed on the floor, struggling to breathe. Evidently too disgusted to use his hands, Jerry used his foot to turn him onto his back. He looked down upon him with the smear of blood still across his features. The already mad grin seemed only to have widened, showing off both rows of teeth like a shark.

“You’re really testing me, Sanchez. You know that? You’re  _ really _ testing my patience. I’m not a very patient man.”

A dozen comebacks sprang to mind, but Rick was in no shape to formulate any of them into words. It was all he could do to keep those painful, stinging breaths coming – in, out, in, out. The sole of Jerry’s shiny black shoe was now applying significant pressure to his chest, sending arcs of pain through his torso and along his spine. It was all he could do to keep himself from slipping into unconsciousness. Blackness was already eating its way into the corners of his vision, but Rick would never forgive himself if this was how he allowed this situation to resolve itself. He couldn’t. It wasn’t an option.

“Stand up.”

“Wh-…”

“You heard me, old man.”

Even if Rick had wanted to obey the younger man’s command, he wouldn’t have been able to in his current state. Jerry resolved to simply hoist him up by his lab coat collar and drag him through into the living room. The older man’s eyes darted this way and that, looking for something – anything – that might help him, or, better still, someone. As though he had read his mind, Jerry grinned broadly, bordering on devilishly.

“No one’s home. No one to hear you.”

“What’re y- what’re you planning?” Rick managed between pained breaths.

“Mmh, you’d like to know that, wouldn’t you, old man? You’d like to pick my brains, dissect me? Find out how I work, hmm? Well, too bad.”

Another kick, this time to the small of Rick’s back, sent him sprawling limply across the sofa like a ragdoll.

“That’s not how it’s going to work from now on, Sanchez.” Jerry sighed as though this whole conversation was incredible tedious to him, even though he was clearly enjoying himself immensely. “Clearly it’s taking a while for that fact to get through your thick skull. I  _ suppose _ I’ll have to show you exactly what I mean.”

Rick could sense the other dangerously close once again, his bruised body instinctively bracing itself for further violence. With substantial effort he managed to roll over into something of a sitting position, but only just in time to find the man in the well-fitting suit towering over him with a threatening grin.

“I’m going to teach you a lesson, old man.”

“A - a lesson?”

Keep him talking. Just keep him talking.

“Yes, you imbecile. A  _ lesson _ . Take off your pants.”

“What-”

“You heard me.”

The scientist was so completely thrown by this it took him several long moments to react, but by that point Jerry’s own hands were already reaching for his zipper. He wanted to edge away, to push him off him, but he lacked the strength to put up a real fight. With a shaky hand he tried to bat away the other’s advances, but Jerry was quicker, catching his wrist in a vice-like grip and holding it against the upholstery beside Rick’s head like a prisoner’s.

“You gonna make me tie you up?”

The smirk that was now playing around the younger man’s lips was deranged, stretching his thin mouth to the very extremes of his face, skin so taut Rick wouldn’t have been surprised to see it tear at the edges. He swallowed dryly before responding.

“You sick f-fuck.”

Jerry just tutted, miming exaggerated displeasure.

“I’d think twice about calling me names if I were you, Sanchez.”

Suddenly his hand was between Rick’s legs, grabbing his balls and squeezing them painfully through the fabric of his underwear. He winced, trying to close his legs, but Jerry shoved his own leg in the way, forcing them apart. That smirk was still in place, sending a hot shiver up Rick’s spine as he shifted in his grip.

“Who’s in charge?” Jerry asked, increasing the pressure, his voice low, almost husky.

“Nnngh-”

“ _ Say it, bitch! _ ”

He yanked hard, sending excruciating pain through Rick’s most sensitive parts. Jerry’s face was right up close once again, flecks of spit flying from his mouth onto Rick’s face. He hardly cared at this point, all he wanted was for this to end, for the pain to stop. He had his fair share of experience with torture, but the humiliation was what was really getting to him. However, it was also the only thing keeping him from simply conceding right there and and then; he wouldn’t give this lunatic the satisfaction of knowing that he had beaten him. He lacked the strength now to retort anything or spit in Jerry’s face, so he simply kept his teeth clenched, lips sealed grimly shut. Every line of his face signalled defiance, and it seemed to be infuriating the well-dressed man towering above. He withdrew his hand and replaced it with a sharp shove of his knee as he bent low over Rick’s aching form. Jerry’s right hand then curled around his throat, not squeezing yet but simply lingering there, relishing the feeling of Rick’s frantically accelerated pulse beneath his fingers.

“You really want to play, old man?”

By every measure the same man who had so violently lost his temper moments earlier now calmed his agitated tone to a low, threatening whisper. He had his life in the palm of his hand, now. There was no need to hurry. Rick seemed to sense this change in demeanour; despite himself, it scared him. Slowly he shook his head, keeping his gaze averted purposefully from Jerry’s. He swallowed dryly, feeling his Adam’s apple nudge against his tormentor’s fingers. Of course this miniscule detail didn’t escape Jerry’s sharp eye. A smirk found its way onto his features once more as he finally tightened his grip - only ever so slightly, not enough to cause real pain but enough to make Rick’s vision swim.

The younger man’s knee pressed insistently into his groin. Suddenly, Rick became painfully aware that Jerry’s breathing was now rather uneven. The situation had him excited. Dreading what he would find, Rick glanced up to meet his gaze and sure enough Jerry’s pale cheeks were dusted with a reddish hue. He was  _ enjoying _ himself. 

“Looks like I’m going to have to teach you that lesson a different way…”

Before Rick could protest, Jerry was already fiddling with his own belt. A moment without the pressure around his throat had Rick taking big, greedy gulps of air, which were soon cut off as the hand was replaced. His gaze was drawn to Jerry now exposed cock, which he was stroking with his free hand. There was no way in hell  _ his _ Jerry had a member that size, that was impossible! Although it  _ would _ explain why his daughter had stayed with him for so long despite no obvious benefits.

Disturbing these musings, this alternate version of Jerry tipped his chin up roughly and forced two fingers into Rick’s mouth. It took all his self-control not to bite down hard as they prized open his mouth. He could still taste blood from the various kicks and punches he had received, warm and metallic on his tongue, but the fingers had their own taste to them, one that Rick wanted to forget as quickly as possible. The digits probed more deeply as Jerry’s gaze became glassy, focused solely on this act of humiliation, biting his lip as he slid them over Rick’s tongue, the roof of his mouth, even his teeth as though he was conducting a scientific study of the old man’s mouth. Then, he withdrew them, and instead of wiping them on his lab coat as he had done his bloody knuckles earlier, he resumed stroking his cock, coating his shaft with Rick’s saliva.

Something about this latest violation crossed a line, causing Rick’s steadfast resolve to crumble.

“Please, you - you don’t have to-... I - I - I’ll do  _ anything _ …”

As though he had physically touched him, these words produced a moan from Jerry unlike anything he had heard previously, as though this audible manifestation of his submission was enough to spike his arousal. If anything, it just seemed to spur him on. Without further warning, Jerry shoved his hard, slick length into Rick’s bruised and beaten mouth, tearing at several cuts his lip had sustained around which the blood had not yet had the chance to dry. It didn’t seem to bother Jerry that the older man’s teeth were grazing his sensitive skin, or that his tongue lay unresponsive in the hollow of his lower jaw. Rick was unwilling to do anything to further the other’s pleasure, but this didn’t cause Jerry to slow down. Instead, he withdrew and shoved his cock into his mouth once more, deeper this time, tickling Rick’s gag reflex which he had thankfully become adept at suppressing long before this encounter. A low, guttural groan escaped him, fingers twisting into Rick’s mess of blueish grey hair. He began to tug at it, causing Rick to wince quietly, barely audible as his sounds were muffled by the large member filling his mouth and throat. Jerry used his grip on the scientist’s hair to shove his head forward and back, fucking his mouth with reckless abandon now, a stream of moans leaving him.

“Remember this day, Sanchez. This-”

Another moan, closer to a his this time as Rick momentarily gagged on his cock.

“-this lesson I’m teaching you. I’m in charge, old man, and your days are  _ numbered _ .”

Jerry tightened his grip, sending bolts of pain across his scalp which didn’t even come close to the painful suffocation he was experiencing. He screwed his eyes shut, as though willing himself to fall unconscious after all,  _ anything _ to make this end, but Rick’s body insisted on taking in just as much oxygen as was necessary to keep him conscious, though not nearly enough to keep black and white spots from dancing before his eyes, even while closed. He could taste blood, and sweat, and Jerry’s strong, almost overwhelming musk. He wouldn’t forget this day, that much was certain.

“This is all you’re good for, now.”

Jerry continued, though he seemed to he having trouble articulating his demeaning insults as pleasure rushed through him.

“You’re nothing but a sorry excuse for a human being -  _ no! _ \- you’re less than that. You’re just a hole for me to fuck.”

As though listening to his own voice, the ultimate expression of his own ego, was what finally tipped him over the edge. Jerry climaxed, shuddering violently, jerking his hips forward and finally releasing his vice-like grip on Rick’s hair. The older man tasted hot, salty cum filling his mouth all the way to the back of his throat. Struggling to breath as it was, he spluttered, white liquid dripping down his chin and onto his torn and bloody clothes, but Jerry wasn’t done yet. He stroked his cock a few more times, teasing out the last few strings of semen which draped themselves across Rick’s bruised features. To Jerry, this was a beautiful sight, a memorable one. An indisputable sign of his victory, his domination over the sorry fool  who called himself “the smartest man in the universe”.

He stepped back, tucking himself away and doing up his pants neatly, self-satisfied smirk never leaving his face. His every movement oozed  a smug sense of triumph as he turned smartly on his heel and left the room without another word. Nothing remained to be said, after all, his ‘message’ had been well and truly communicated. After this assertion of dominance, he had nothing left to fear from Rick; he had well and truly beaten him.


End file.
